The Batman Games
by krikanalo
Summary: In the midst of a major crisis, Batman is forced to do what he has never done before- and pays the price for it. Stuck in a dystopian future, he must find a way to overcome its dictatorial government, stop Darkseid, and get back home.
1. Batman's Future

**THE BATMAN GAMES**

PART I: THE STRANDED

**1**

Where am I?

I'm _definitely _not in Kansas anymore.

No… if this could be considered Kansas, it would probably be some kind of warped replica seen in a Heinlein novel.

In fact, I don't even know _when_ I am. The landscape around me is barren, tattered, destroyed in some gruesome way; buildings have been reduced to rubble and what was once a park has been clear-cut. Not even the car I _stand_ on is safe, floating on a deep river that in a way kind of reminds me of Gotham.

Did it work?

Did I manage to kill Darkseid, preventing him from using the Anti-Life equation to turn the world into literal zombies?

Was _I_ killed in the process?

Not something I want to think about.

Doesn't seem to matter, though. Nobody is here; everything's silent. Too silent. Darkseid would have flaunted his prowess at any opportunity. There has to be something _else_ at hand here.  
Joker? This seems too extravagant for him.

Luthor? He wouldn't do _that_.

Ra's?

Might actually be Ra's. Destruction of this kind is his fortitude.

I didn't think he'd actually be able to _do_ it, though…

My god.

I stay on top of the car for a while longer, contemplating what I should do. This city is flooded. Everything has been annihilated. I can't _possibly_ go to the Batcave; I'd drown. The Justice League is probably not coming anytime soon.

I sigh. Time for some prep.

* * *

I honestly don't know why I'm writing this. I was just reading _The Hunger Games_ when the thought suddenly came to my mind- what would Batman do if _he_ was in the Hunger Games?

If you weren't aware, this takes place after _Final Crisis_- in that series, Darkseid has discovered the Anti-Life Equation and uses it to turn the majority of the world into his slaves. The heroes work to beat him for a while, but after realizing it is near impossible, Batman steps in, _uses a gun__, and kills him, _only to be killed himself. Chilling.

He's not actually dead, of course, and the Omega Beam that gets him sends him to the distant past (he has to claw his way back home,) but for the sake of the story let's assume it took him to the future instead. Welcome to Panem, Batman- hope you survive the experience...


	2. Capitol Boat

**2**

I've just finished figuring out how to get to the Watchtower when a small boat honks its horn beside me.

Yes, that's right. A _boat_. I didn't even know those things _existed_ here.

It's clearly calling for me, but I have to remain cautious. This is a bad future. You never know who could be friend or foe, and in these kinds of circumstances that's critical.

I continue to brood.

The boat is still honking, its passengers growing more haggard. I _have_ to ignore them. Things will be messed up if I-

"_Helloooo? SIR!_"

Oh.

Someone is now yelling out in a screeching voice. It hurts and I don't know if I can take it much longer. Then again, though-

"Sir! Please! Your presence is requested on this ship!"

Maybe I can ignore her. It's not like I haven't done the same with Ivy's silky smooth hypnosis, or Penguin's _incessant_ honking, or Joker's _HORRIFIC_ Mark Hamill impression, for that matter-

"_**SIR!**_"

A cadre of men in strange HAZMAT-esque suits, clearly sent out by whoever was screaming at me, swim towards my perch. Scratch that. They seem dangerous and I'm not in the mood to fight at the moment. I receive a few seemingly wary stares as I paddle out towards the fish out of water but I ignore them.

Getting on the boat, I'm surprised to find that the person who was mouthing me off… doesn't really look like a person at all.

Quite the opposite, actually. She looks like what someone would _imagine_ a person to look like, if said someone was high on Joker gas, Scarecrow venom, and Ivy dust put together and wasn't really aiming to make anything… _spectacular. _

This… _woman_ certainly has the figure of one, true, but her other features would put her firmly in my rogues gallery if she were to act upon her seeming aggressions and attack me. Sheer stringy white hair, flashy red lipstick, _gaudy_ bubblegum pink blush (it reminds me of something Selena would use. SELENA.), baby blue eyeliner that doesn't look like it was applied properly… and, worst of all, her _outfit. _

I can't even _begin_ to explain it. She's wearing something that wouldn't look out-of-place in the Queen of England or Margaret Thatcher's ensembles, but the way it forms to her curves and rumples in certain places and sparkles, honest to god _sparkles_ like that pitiful excuse for a vampire…

Come to think of it, maybe she'd make for a good enemy of Flash's; she certainly looks like someone the Scarlet Speedster would fight. I'm not too sure.

My _god_, Wally... Barry. Where _are_ you?

"Hello!" the lady pipes, giving me a small wave, still speaking in that awful tinny voice. "My name is Effie Trinket. And you are?"

"None of your business," I gruffly respond.

Effie giggles at this. "Oh, _nonsense_," she says, making as if to push me away. "Visitors to the Capitol are _always_ my business! Or they will be," Effie whispers, leaning towards me conspiratorially, "once President Snow sees how much of a good job I've done with this year's Tributes."

Wait. Capitol? President "Snow"? Some sort of annual event? "Tributes"? _What?_

I try to make some sense of the information I've just been given while Trinket continues to blabber on about how she's taking part in some "Hunger Games", helping two "tributes" from "District Twelve" try to overcome some insurmountable odds and win. She doesn't mean to show it, but I can tell she's not too confident in them. I'd be too, if I was made to wear such strange things and speak in such strange ways and help arrange such strange events.

It seems as if I've ended up in the ruins of what used to be the U.S. Capitol. Strange, since I seem to remember shooting Darkseid in Command D (a facility below Bludhaven, which is a good 500 miles from here.) President Snow seems to have taken over as leader of the United States of America, which only provides further confirmation that I've ended up in the future. The annual event that Effie is _still_ gushing and praising (come to think of it, she reminds me of Starfire a little) is obviously the "Hunger Games". Probably some kind of competition, given that the "tributes" that the woman is taking care of seem to be a team in it. This is all really, really strange.

How on _earth _did doing off the master of the Anti-Life Equation do THIS? HOW? It doesn't make any sense! I can't even keep some semblance of _control_ at the moment because I'm still so amazed that the future I've landed myself in, the future that _I _created, could end up turning out so horrifically upside down! Yeesh! What I wouldn't give to be attacked by a deadly bee weapon right about now.

Bees. My god.

"I-I mean, I don't want to make the poor man look bad, but Haymitch Abernathy is _NOT_ somebody I would want mentoring my dear tributes! He's a horrible person! You should _see_ the man when he's sat by a bar counter, Mr. Tracker Jacker- he drinks like a slob! We're going to lose for _sure-_"

"Trinket."

"- And then President Snow will hate me, because he'll think _I _was personally responsible for making District Twelve fail, and he'll have me shipped off to a correctional facility to have my tongue chopped off-"

"Effie."

"- Then I'll become an Avox; useless little ruffians, they are; I won't be able to do ANYTHING! It'll be _horrible!_ Please, you have to _do _something-"

I can't take this anymore.

"_MS. TRINKET!_"

I yell at her. I don't really care. Anything that can be done to shut that damn woman up is fine by me, and from the looks of it my action certainly did its job. She's staring at me now, slightly open mouth working in tandem with a curious gaze to produce the image of one who is wary but engaged. I can't believe it, but this woman actually _does_ make me think of Starfire! Dick'd better consider himself lucky that he enraptured such an interesting lady.

"Yes?" she says sweetly. (I rest my case.)

"I'm not quite sure why you think your tributes would _lose_," I say, processing Trinket's rant about this "Haymitch" character in my mind. "They can't be _that _bad."

Trinket simply glares at me and huffs, not even bothering to give a reply. It's a petty gesture but it tells me that she might not be everything that she appears to be. I need to investigate further-

"Are you the Batman?" a voice suddenly calls, another door opening.

Wait- how do they know who I am? That's concerning. From the looks of what used to be Washington D.C., nobody here would really _need_ to know.

"Yes," I answer.

A new face, just as trussed up as Trinket's, peers into the room and nods. "I'll need you to come with me, then." God, he even has the same high-pitched squeal. What's _up_ with this cast of characters? Have I brought the Looney Toons world to life?

This is the question that plagues me as the Capitol worker leads me down a long, narrow hall.

Trinket didn't reveal much about Haymitch, but from what I pieced together it appears he's going to be mentoring the tributes from District Twelve in this upcoming Hunger Games. He's a failure of a man and an alcoholic to boot. District Twelve is a failure of a district as well, which makes me wonder what the _other_ "districts" are like- assuming, of course, there are even any other districts to _begin_ with.

It seems that President Snow places faith in them anyway, despite their status, as Trinket appears to be on extremely high stakes in this competition. I have to respect her for that, at the very least. Once I get to the Watchtower and find out what happened to all of my… _friends_… I'll see what exactly comes about in terms of future sport.

We arrive at the end of the corridor, the worker (whom I later learn goes by Lucida) moving to stand by a massive, ornately decorated door. He smiles and gestures me to enter; I don't quite trust him, but it seems whatever is behind the opening could be a big help in getting me back home….

I trust my instincts, pushing open the door and giving a patented Bat-Glare™ to whatever lays inside.

"Hello, Mr. Wayne," a new voice says, smiling up at me. He has a very strange aura about him; while he looks trusting on the outside, I can't help but feel that there's something more sinister lurking beneath wrinkled skin, elegant suit, long, well-groomed beard.

And the fact that he's apparently figured out my secret identity just proves it.

"I am President Snow."

Sometimes I hate my instincts. I really, REALLY do.

* * *

******Response Corner (hey, check it out! a new feature!)**

DragonyPhoenix: Thanks! The fact that you termed Batman's view of the future as a "Heinlein reference" makes me strangely happy, for some reason...

HefruMaru: Welp, here you go! I wasn't considering that point when I wrote this, but yes, it definitely will be. Don't worry- Batman always keeps his morals, no matter what.

Pebblepaw: He's in Panem, yes- maaaybe not quite District Thirteen, though...

MegaRDaniels: I get the feeling that it would be more than a little rude of Batman to beat up Katniss. He'll blow a gasket when he meets her, sure, but he wouldn't go as far as to hit her...

Jbarb: Thanks!

DC and marvel guy: Thanks; I sure as heck will!

mizzietributeclato: To be honest, I'm not sure why nobody's come up with such a premise before. Batman IS pretty popular... *cough*maybemorepeopleshouldcrosscomicbooksoverwit hbookbooks*cough*

Ink Spotz: Thanks! As with HefruMaru, this is for you. You're welcome on both counts.

* * *

**I'm a little surprised that out of all the fics I've done so far, THIS was considered the most popular. Don't get me wrong- I like it too- but surely my other stories are deserving of some praise? Eh, whatever. I'm just curious.**

**I actually wrote the first part of this chapter (up to the line "Sir! Please! Your presence is requested on this ship!") about a week after I'd posted the story (no idea why I didn't come back to it in the interim.) You can tell that I left it alone for a while because the writing style suddenly changes and to be honest I find such a thing quite jarring. I don't even know why it would warp so much. Is a person's writing style really _that_ malleable? And can people notice when and how it alters?**

**Anyway, check out the sweet bombshell Snow drops on Batman at the very end there. Looks like the guy has some _'splainin_' to do...**

**(NB: I won't update again for a while because I'm working on three other stories as well as this one in a rotating order. Don't worry, though- when we get back to Batman, I can assure you that things will get more than a little interesting. Read and review!)**


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